Mobile ring tones at morning light,
disturb the shapes under covers,
the outlined echoes of last night,
two star-crossed microphone lovers,
drawn from opposite ends of town,
yesterday’s pub entertainers,
way on down at the Old Three Crowns,
they met singing Gloria Gaynor,
ramped and amped with emotion,
to songs that belonged in the haze,
now wake to face their commotion,
the music of separate ways.
Kirk goes back to practised cadence,
With it he hits ears, no conscience,
Great stir in a once mute audience,
Afresh bides his time: Great Patience…
Talks triggered between close sitters
That a night guard steals embitters:
His straight sack: more hard hitters:
‘People’s wealth the meanly fritters!’
At the right time drop microphone:
Now, your voice is a xylophone.
They all hear you, no francophone.
If there’s one he should guess through tone.
What speakers do is stamp knowledge,
Over the rest ‘some sort of edge’:
That of one who’s passed through college,
Night candles not burnt sacrilege…
The Guard who steals likes his worst foes;
Just time he stepped on his seen toes
But like one fighting men’s woes:
It hurts when what comes quickly goes.
The microphone, there it stands, waiting for you to sing,
All of your feelings, to come out, hopefully to touch someone,
The microphone, stands alone, looking out onto the theatre, stadium, in front of all those empty seats.
The miles you've traveled, your life experiences, waiting go be sung, your love for music, all waiting to be shared, someone in the audience is going through something, they have come to hear you sing, the words will change their life, sometimes bringing a tear.
The microphone, is your tool, your voice is the gift from Heaven above, years and years, of singing, writing, the microphone has always been your companion, it's time to step up to the stage, let the world go, just close your eyes, deep breath, bring everything you've been given over the years to the stage, look out into the audience, see the smiling faces, they are here to hear you sing, Trisha yearwood, that Georgia girl is inside you, let's bring her out..
i once was courageously brave
unaware and dark with a gaping young heart
it intensely told me, I could be fearlessly bold
and write inflicting lyrics that could change the whole world
well, I didn't believe it of course
until they kept senselessly disappearing
and someone on the radio
was singing my songs (lyrics)
a country star, then a rapper,
then, and then,
until someone vehemently put me in the local hospital
for six days and nights, of five I was unconscious
then I believed that I could write a change
talking about fear and confusing (confusion)
how did they know about me
i never gave my songs to anyone
and no one every gave me a dime...
or a penny
I walked with the Aura of confidence
like it wasn't pretend
Shoulders back
Chin up
as each leg would extend
Contemplating the kind of message
I wanted to send
A fair bit short of handsome
Yet was impeccably dressed
Would anyone be convinced?
I hoped they'd be impressed
Up to the podium
Ready for my speech
The microphone crackled
My voice came out as a screech
More than a bit embarrassed
I was redder than a peach
I sat and cleared my throat
Adjusted the glasses on my nose
Picked up where I left off
as I crossed all of my toes
The crowd started to encourage me
As to my feet I finally rose
Soon I had forgotten
Moments earlier I had froze
So if you ever find yourself
in such an awkward place
Take all the time you need
it's a speech, it's not a race
The audience wants to help you
Those who have done it know your pain
If they together encourage you
You'll be able to do it again
With more practice comes confidence
In the end it won't be pretend
You are the one and only you
With a special message to extend.
Lyrical skittles
Sick flow skills
Rattle sizzle dribble miracles
Mirror syllables at will
Fizzle with sun symbols
I lick cosmic ripples and be on the go
A true rhyming dynamo
Your dying to know
The dynamics
Built in my bones
Mind like a diamond glow
Body exploding like
Dynamite zones
The soul dies tonight
To never be known
My might is too much
For you to do it alone
Do it on your own
Smash everything to dust
Heavy titan fist iron stone
Rhyming dynamo so blown
I'm a sea captain!
Don't need a microphone !
I watched you take a back spin
With the skills I've honed
You pre picked your pansy pearl
Thought I didn't know it?
You presented your gargantuan
giggly girl
But didn't expect the Floating Poet
To the fart scoundrel of snoot port
Who saw the need was dire
Had the art counsel of Beaufort
Promise 2nd and 3rd to out of town
liars
(along with money and nice hotel
rooms)
It was a nice thing you did for her
The unethical proposition
She was the winner the judges
concur
But it was a liars competition
these are the last words you'll hear
From me there's no protest
But I'd like to see appear
An honest liars contest
Since it had nothing to do with luck
Let these words forever harass
cause I think you all suck
and you can take this cheap kazoo
you gave me and shove it up
your................
The President and the Microphone
By Elton Camp
Obama’s not the first to be caught that way
An open mike revealed what he had to say
It gave to the public an unexpected choice
To hear him not with his Presidential voice
There wasn’t a thing wrong with he said
It was better than a speech that’s being read
Actually, most thought it was extremely cool
It showed that, the President is nobody’s fool
Loving like a microphone
When we’re on the phone
You ignore everything I’ve done
Our time together was fun, I guess?
Missing you in your summer dress
When I’m not with you, I’m not my best
It’s no secret, I’m crazy in love
Keeping mementoes as souvenirs
The flower in your hair
The kiss you left upon my lips
Crazy, maybe!?
Wishing I could keep you forever
Like a memory inside a glossary .